What is lost
by cArPeNoctis
Summary: Vereesa visits her birth village, while thinking of her lost sisters.


_So,_this is a one-shot that I've had in mind for some time.I love the Windrunners and their story is so sad so I just had to write this... This one chapter is based on a story that I'm thinking of writing maybe as soon as I'm done with the story I'm currently writing. It will be called 'Windrunner' but I haven't really made up a plot yet...

Anyway,I would be really happy if you comment and tell me what was good or what I could have done better!

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**What is lost**

Carrying the name of Windrunner gave Vereesa many different reactions. People who fought for the Alliance all bowed to her and treated her like a queen, a result to her heroic actions during the Third War. Orcs, tauren and the savage offspring of her own race, also respected her even if she refused to talk to them, but they did so with more caution and sent her very suspicious looks. But she knew why. It was natural for them to question her ways of leading the city of Dalaran or even her own blood, when the Lady Windrunner the Horde had gotten used to serve was her sister, the Banshee Queen.

Sylvanas was not the only Windrunner to befall such a fate. Of that Vereesa was reminded, as she glided down from her mount and let her feet meet the mudded stone path. Ahead of her, and the elven rangers that had insisted in joining her, lay the ruins of the village that she once had known so well. The Windrunner village.

Since its fall, Vereesa had only visited it once before. At that time she had tried to search for any evidence that anyone of her family might still be alive, but had been forced to retreat when the monstrous gargoyles who now lived there had noticed her. It was for exact that reason she had returned now.

The village lay in what had once been to Vereesa the most magnificent part of Quel'thalas, but had now turned into what its inhabitants, the blood elves, called the Ghostlands. And it was not much wonder why they had named it so.

This southern part of her birth land had lost all life, and been replaced by undeath. Most of that which moved here was the restless spirits of the elves that died defending their homes, some wandering the Dead Scar that ran through the entire region, all the way to the gates of Silvermoon. Vereesa had no intention of visiting the capital, though. The comrades that she had once fought with side by side were now no better than the filthy orcs, who had once been their enemies. And now these "blood elves" had allied themselves with them. All the while preying on fel magic and other power siphoned out from their victims. In disgust over what her race had become, Vereesa had abandoned all ties to Quel'thalas, and strongly opposed their infiltration in her new home city.

Despite this, she could not help but return to the village where she had been born. The simpler homes that lay in the shadow of the Spire had been more wrecked than any of the ruins she had seen in the Ghostlands. One house had collapsed so much that there was no chance for the rangers to even enter it. In the ones that they could, however, the furniture was broken and lay scattered in pieces across the floor. Torn books, forgotten jewellery, even skeletal bone pieces grew all more common to them as they investigated more of the ruins.

Vereesa swallowed to keep back tears. What had she, her family… her race done to deserve such punishments?

Her heart sank even more as she stopped in front of the house she had run into so many times. It now stood empty, with not even one piece of furniture, save a bookshelf broken to a thousand pieces. She felt one of her assistant rangers glance sympathetically at her. Slowly, she entered the building, and the flashbacks started.

Over there was where Sylvanas had lost her patience and wrestled down their brother. And across the room was where Alleria had received her necklace as a gift for becoming a ranger of Silvermoon…

The necklace. Vereesa abruptly stopped her reminiscence and reached after the jewellery that she always wore. A sparkling ruby was framed by a silver locket, which elegantly hung in a silver chain around her neck. Shortly before their sister's disappearance, the two younger Windrunner daughters were given two pieces of Alleria's necklace, as she had kept the emerald part for herself. Her messenger had told them that according to the lead scout of the Alliance, this would keep the sisters connected, no matter what. Vereesa flipped the locket over. On the backside, an engraving said; "To Vereesa. Love always, Alleria."

Without being able to control it, tears suddenly started rolling down Vereesa's cheeks and she started crying loudly. She grasped the locket while repeating her oldest sister's name over and over again in her mind. The assistant elven rangers watched her both sympathetically and unsurely. One of them slowly stepped forward and put a hand to her shoulder. She shook it off. She just barely heard the ranger back away and continued investigating with the others. Sobbing, Vereesa fell down to the floor. She loved her sisters… above all else.

But when the day came that Alleria, being the oldest one, started training archery, she and Sylvanas somehow grew closer. Together they would watch their sister during the days, or run out into the woods to play or dream about one day following her footsteps. But it was due to Alleria's absence and Sylvanas' presence that Vereesa would began to admire her second sister more.

So when the day came that Sylvanas also left their village, Vereesa grew outraged and jealous every time she received a letter from any of her sisters. She knew that just as Sylvanas was her idol, Alleria was Sylvanas'. She hated being left out when the two talked passionately about bows, archery or any other thing that she was too young to learn.

None the less, they had all been so close, closer than they were to any of their brothers or other relatives. And yet, they had been so easily torn apart…

When the orcs first came to Quel'thalas, Alleria had brought the humans with which she fought. She seemed close to many of them, but there was something special about her bond to one of them, a paladin who called himself Turalyon. At the time, Vereesa had thought him to be a weak human youngling who stole her sister away, but she soon learned that appearances could be deceptive. Turalyon proved to be a powerful wielder of the Light, who was only worthy of her sister's love.

But, as she and the Alliance chased after the orc leader, the brutish fighters had gained the upper hand back in Quel'thalas and slew many of their family. Including their parents, aunts and uncles, and their youngest brother Lirath. He had been so full of energy and anticipation over joining the ranger squad, just like his siblings. But, as inexperienced in battle as he was, he was slain by the brutish Horde in his first fight. Her older brother had quickly avenged him by killing his murderer, but too late. Vereesa considered his death, and the death of so many other relatives, as the downfall of her clan.

Upon her return Alleria was nearly driven insane by grief. She had killed more orcs in one day than Vereesa had during one week, and she had never stopped to rest. She, Sylvanas and her remaining brothers had attempted to ease their sister's mind, but to no avail. The last Vereesa saw of her older sister was when she once again left to aid the Alliance, determined to exterminate every orc that wandered the world.

She now stood immortalized in stone in Stormwind, the human's capital. The description of the statue said that she was 'presumed deceased', and as the time went Vereesa could not believe anything else.

A bat-like squeak caused Vereesa to look up. The gargoyle sound was soon followed by the one of an arrow meeting its goal, and the Scourge creature hitting the ground. So the gargoyles were still here, then. The Silver Covenant leader stood up, brushed off her knees and left the house to assist her comrades.

When she reached them one of the elven rangers ran up to her. "Lady Vereesa! We've found a nest inside one of the buildings…"

Vereesa nodded. "Dispose of them."

The ranger studied her for a while. It would be more like her to only attack those which came in their way, and leave the rest for the sin'dorei. But without protesting, the ranger saluted her and went to inform the others of the new orders.

Just to be sure, Vereesa took out her own bow in case any of the Scourge creatures would try to attack her. While she held a strong grudge against the orcs which destroyed her home, her husband Rhonin acted as a neutral leader to both the Alliance and the Horde, and so she was forced to meet with them every day. Her hate then moved to the filthy undead that had completely wrecked her homeland and killed all of her family members that had managed to survive the Horde.

She could still remember the day they came. It had begun like any other day, with practicing archery with her brothers while Sylvanas had run off to scout their kingdom. And perhaps, Vereesa thought, have her mind on something else than their missing sister. The ranger general had then returned in panic, shouting to everyone she could reach to prepare for war. In all haste, no formations had been done and elf after elf fell to the Scourge's blades. First was her only remaining uncle, who then rose as a ghoul and fell to the blade of his own father, her grandfather. Her oldest brother shared a similar fate and was burned to death with the rest of the Scourge, but not before killing her other brother.

As the battle had seized, Vereesa had teary-eyed searched for her sister, but couldn't find her among the surviving nor the fallen. And so, she presumed that she had perhaps been burned to death or followed the undead.

Vereesa had been completely unaware of her sister's fate until a few months ago, shortly after the birth of her twin sons. But to her, Sylvanas was already dead by then. Not saying that she didn't mourn the now leader of the Forsaken, but just like her wretched cousin had before his death; Sylvanas had joined the Horde and fought determined against her previous race. Vereesa pitied Sylvanas. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, she could never imagine the pain her sister had gone through.

The second-in-command ranger reached her again. "The nest is gone, milady. The gargoyles won't rise again any time soon."

"Good. And if they do, that will not be our business," Vereesa answered. Draping her silver cloak tighter around her, she gave the lost village one last gaze. "Leave the surviving vermin to the blood elves. We're done here."

The rangers nodded, and climbed up their own mounts behind Vereesa. The youngest Windrunner sister attached her bow to the side of her own horse, before urging it forward to leave. Right now she only wanted to go back home, to her sons and her husband.

~*~

Having returned from her walk around the Argent Tournament grounds, Vereesa reluctantly sat down on the seat beside her husband. Pouting, she glared down at the mounted combatants inside the arena. Rhonin glanced at her. "Is something wrong?"

The Silver Covenant leader sighed. She did not want to worry him; she knew he had already too much to think about. Even after her childbirth, Rhonin would constantly ask her things to make sure that she was comfortable. Vereesa smiled softly at him and put one of her hands on his. "No, my love. I just worry about our sons."

Returning her smile, Rhonin nodded. "I understand. But I am sure that Jalia will take good care of them." Jalia was the townswoman who had helped the couple during Vereesa's pregnancy, and also assisted during the delivery. After a moment of silence, Rhonin added; "Are you sure it is not… something else?"

He was referring to the presence of the Horde, where of two strongly built orcs stood as the Dalaran leaders' bodyguards during their visit on the Argent Tournament. The tournament's founder, Highlord Tirion Fordring, had insisted that they would come as many of the other city leaders had. Although first unsure, Vereesa had agreed to come only to show her support of her own race.

But the high elf female shook her head at her husband's question. "No, it does not bother me. Besides-"

She was interrupted when the Tournament audience suddenly started shouting and cheering while rising from their seats. The Dalaran couple quickly followed their move and politely applauded to the winning dwarf champion. His combatant, a Forsaken dressed in green robes, spat as he used his mount as support when he got up to his feet. The Argent Peacekeepers stationed around the arena stood ready in case a quarrel would break out between the two factions. But the Forsaken champion seemed to admit his defeat and slowly withdrew from the circle, all the while his fans booed to the dwarf.

Rhonin chuckled a bit as he leaned back in his chair. He turned quiet when Vereesa sent him an odd look. Clearing his throat, he said; "So, uh… who do you tip will win next?"

Vereesa raised her eyebrow, but pretended to look thoughtful as she studied the new combatants entering. "I have a hunch that it will be a tie, but the kal'dorei looks really-"

The Silver Covenant leader was once again interrupted when a male's voice echoed over the arena, causing the couple to turn their heads. "SIT DOWN!!" A red-skinned orc had jumped up from his seat by the Horde's side of the arena. He was pointing a newly sharpened axe at a slim, dark-clad figure that had turned her back at him. It looked like she was ready to leave. She stood still for a moment, perhaps looking at the orc over her shoulder, before heading towards the exit.

The orc, who Vereesa now recognized as Overlord Garrosh Hellscream, looked infuriated. "STOP!"

Another figure rose from his seat, slightly higher placed than that of the other's. Warchief Thrall grabbed the Overlord's shoulder before he could run after the dark-clad woman. "Enough, Garrosh! Let her be, and we will discuss it later."

Garrosh broke free from his grip. "You are truly an unworthy leader, who cannot even control your subordinates," he sneered.

"Sylvanas is not my subordinate, and you will not speak ill of her again." The Warchief glanced around. All of the onlookers had now turned back to the tournament, except for Vereesa, who stared wide-eyed at the orcs. That dark-clad figure…it was her sister?! As Thrall pulled down Garrosh to his seat again, Vereesa rose from her own and almost ran up to the bridge leading out.

"What… Vereesa!" Rhonin called after her, but she did not look back. All that existed in her mind right then was that she had to stop Sylvanas, but what to do after that she had not decided. The elven ranger rushed past confused Peacekeepers and headed out of the coliseum, just in time to see her sister slow down in front of two Forsaken soldiers. One of them, a mage it seemed like, started preparing a portal.

"No," Vereesa said to herself, and practically jumped down the final steps. The mage finished the portal, and bowed to his mistress as she walked through.

"SYLVANAS!!" Vereesa shouted for all she was worth. It had been years since she ran as fast as she did now, but it still seemed that she wouldn't make it in time. A stone lying on the ground came within her feet range, and she fell down. Teary-eyed, she looked up in time to see the portal disappear, her sister along with it. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the Dark Lady slightly turned her head… and stared at her with red, glowing eyes.

Breathing hard, Vereesa sat up while angrily avoiding the confused Forsaken that had remained. During her fall, the pendant she had received from Alleria had slipped out of its place underneath her armour, and now hung freely around her neck. The Ranger General gazed at it through her tears, the ruby locket reflecting the eyes she had just seen.

Both her sisters were gone, as were her brothers, her parents, her aunts and uncles… She was practically alone in the world now. So why did she keep trying to find them? Why did she return to her past, again and again…?

Someone stepped out of coliseum behind her, and she recognized Rhonin's touch on her shoulder. Holding his hand, Vereesa slowly stood up and embraced him. Her husband didn't say anything, he already understood. They stood silent, surrounded by the distant voices from the arena and the gentle sound of falling snow. Vereesa slowly lifted her face from his shoulder, smiling sadly.

"Please… let's go back."

Rhonin looked at her concernedly. "To the Tournament?"

She shook her head, once again holding him tight. "No, home." She did not need to say more, for in the next moment Rhonin had lifted his hands, and the couple disappeared from the Tournament grounds in a flash of violet light.

_The End._


End file.
